Chasing Pavements
by Guardian Kysra
Summary: My response to a song prompt challenge. Takes place about 8 months after the 2nd movie.


Note: This takes place 8 months after the 2nd movie which I know you haven't seen so read at your own risk ^_^

Challenge Fic #1

Pairing: Saki/Akira

Fandom: Eden of the East

Song: Adele, Chasing Pavements

Chosen by: Emaniahilel

Theme/specifications: a quiet moment, something may or may not happen

 **Chasing Pavements**

By Kysra

She's on the pier again, in New York, with a perfect view of Ground Zero, waiting instead of searching this time. Her heart is here, she thinks, even as her smile falls upon her phone – Hirasawa-senpai's message still visible and bringing a little peace to her soul. He has gone too long without proper thanks – for helping her and Takizawa-kun, for giving her money and time off to follow this mystery and vapor prince of hers, all without complaint or skepticism.

Sighing but still grinning slightly, Saki leans against the railing and watches the sun begin its descent, the sky phasing from blue to strains of yellow, orange, and fiery red, reflecting into the water below and forward on her skin. Unlike her last visit, she's not filled with anxiety or fear or rushing to complete a self-involved mission. She is here to work and – possibly, hopefully – to reclaim something that was lost. After all, she doesn't have his gun anymore nor his phone, but she has that golden ring hanging about her neck like some sort of sentimental prize and the promise he had made still nestled beneath her heart.

She shakes her head to banish the memory. She is not here to think on him but of tomorrow's meeting and how best to market Eden of the East's U.S. launch.

A gust of wind takes her hair, whipping it about her ears and she draws her jacket (Takizawa's ratty army green over-shirt ironically) just a little closer, lowering her chin to one hand. She isn't the same person she was a year ago that day in front of the White House. No, she is more confident, surer of what she wants to do with her life and who she wants to surround herself with. She now knows she can be capable of extraordinary things in the midst of chaos that threatens more than her or those she loves. She now knows how deeply she can love, how fast she can move, how clearly she can think when the chips are down; and she knows, without doubt or censure, that her small shoulders are strong enough to carry the burdens of the man she loves.

Closing her eyes, Saki lets out a little giggle. It's impossible not to think about him, really. He was truly one of a kind and she was blessed to have had even those few, endless three days with him; but he's been gone for eight months, and despite his promise to come for her once he was done with his work, she knows he'll probably never come back. He is too noble and even she cannot ignore the reality that he is now a wanted criminal.

"I miss you, Takizawa-kun," she murmurs to the wind, gives up, and tries to remember that moment when her lips sought his in all too brief contact. She has resigned herself to the recognition that she had kissed him with the knowledge it would be the last time she saw him; and if she was totally honest with herself, she had probably been half-crazy with the panic of seeing his back as he ran away from her. He had accomplished what he has wished to (and a little more), found his mother, and regained his memory. He had no reason to stay, despite the tie she felt existed between them (he was kind to everyone – almost fanatically so – she couldn't be that special). She really didn't know him at all, not really, not the man who had existed before Mr. Outside and Juiz and Selecao.

But that didn't seem to matter to her heart, she pressed a hand to her chest, wondering. After all, Mr. Outside had to have seen something in his limited meetings with Takizawa-kun before choosing him to become a Selecao, a potential savior of Japan, and if what she knew of the man after his introduction to the game was part of the true Takizawa, then . . . then, all of this wishy-washy mental dallying was a useless waste of time since she was already certain that Takizawa was the one for her. He made her a better version of herself, and she . . . she wanted to be that person for him, the person that supported and encouraged him, the one who used her strength to aid him in all his pursuits.

Which was why she had volunteered to head the marketing project here in the States, not that Hirasawa-senpai hadn't guessed. His earlier text stating a likely Takizawa sighting in the area said enough. And though such news would have given her renewed hope a few months ago, she knew that if Takizawa-kun wished not to be found, he simply wouldn't. Her hope was still there, simmering behind her eyes; but she was more accepting now that – perhaps – Takizawa-kun was only meant to be a short chapter of change in her life rather than the whole book.

She sighed yet again then tapped her foot, impatient with herself. Still, she mused, she would have been happy to know him better, thrilled to become his girlfriend, honored to be his wife, yearned to bear his children. _They would be beautiful_.

Her life had been a question when she met him, never looking too far ahead, always unsure of her own opinions and decisions. She had felt that life was at a stand-still, like she was waiting for something to happen, to give her a little push. She had finished college without prospects, lived with her sister and brother-in-law (whom she had the bad fortune to fall in love with) and niece (whom she saw too little of because as much as she loved her, it hurt too much), and seemed to drag her feet in both her professional and private lives. And then Takizawa had walked, naked (literally) and vulnerable, into her life and all of her paltry little problems seemed nothing compared to the mystery and possible danger of his.

Yet, he never questioned himself, only the situation and the other people involved. His confident way of moving through the obstacles and overcoming the seemingly possible with relative ease, always calm, poised, _ready_ . . . all of it had captured her attention as thoroughly as his natural charm – artless as it was. And it was because of those qualities that she feared she would never be able to fall in love with anyone else. Takizawa-kun was too unforgettable - understated yet larger than life, simple at first glance yet possessing such a complex mind one could merely trust him on blind faith as he took care of the finer details without ever betraying _how_. He was someone so absolutely kind and reliable and full of relentless energy – a problem solver, a born leader, honest, caring, handsome, and just . . . _love_.

There was this way about him, how he spoke – so sure and steadfast, how he listened – so intent and focused, how he _noticed everything –_ as if she was the only person in the room. She held an enormous well of respect for him, a healthy measure of admiration.

And – at times like this – when her memory of him was so fresh and vivid and at the forefront of her mind, she would think back to that promise and touch the ring hanging between her breasts beneath the summer frock, pressing the flesh-warm metal to her skin, and allow the hope to ache into her bones, sending out a prayer for his continued safety and eventual return – no matter how long it took.

Because, though young, she is fairly certain she will never find another. She doesn't want to; and she will wait however long it takes.

Her reverie is broken by the hollow beep of her watch signaling the hour. It is getting late, the sun dipping low in the horizon and the sky turning dark. She takes one last look at the New York sky line before closing her eyes and turning to make the trek back to her hotel on foot (after the chaos of last time, she will never take a taxi again).

But she doesn't get far for when she opens her eyes to start out, she finds herself back in the past, staring across a small distance to find familiar brown eyes.

"T – Takizawa-kun?" She reaches out with one hand then drops it lamely, almost afraid that this is a memory-induced dream, cruel and hopeless.

"Saki-chan." He smiles that honest, achingly beautiful smile that sets her knees to water. "I told you I'd come for you when my work was done. Do you remember?"

She swallows, taking a tentative step toward him. "I remember everything." His hair is shorter now, the outfit he wears is better tailored – casual and stylish - . . . or perhaps he has filled out just a bit in her absence (her eyes widen as she realizes these are – finally – _his_ clothes, not a costume to suit the part he is playing in a convoluted game of life and death); but his face is the same, the eyes just as open and clear and shining with sharp intelligence.

He mirrors her, stepping closer for every one of her slow footfalls. The symbolism isn't lost on her. He always did meet her in the middle with a hand held forward, inviting her to remain by his side. "I'm glad one of us does."

Her laughter is quiet and accompanied by tears. "So am I." She stops, and so does he, only arm distance away; but she doesn't reach and neither does he. There is too much between them, the air is thick with time and questions.

"I'm sorry I took so long."

"I would have waited longer."

"How much longer?" His smile is more subdued as he asks, but no less certain than usual. He knows the answer, she realizes, and perhaps it worries him. He is too kind to ever ask or expect so much from her, a girl he only knew for three days, a girl who foolishly and completely offered him a heart he couldn't accept freely.

"Forever." Before . . . before, she would have been embarrassed or bashful of the intensity of her feelings. Now, she understands the fragility of life and opportunity. Takizawa-kun taught her to be ruthless with honesty and honest with her feelings.

He takes her face in his hands, steps close, and – momentarily – lowers his lips to hers in a kiss that is chaste and pure and beautiful . . . another promise that burns into her blood. "Then . . . I'll always come back to you."

She doesn't realize she's crying until a sob breaks from her throat and she has to cover her mouth with the force of the tremors wracking her body. His calm is not broken though concern shines from his eyes as he hugs her with his whole body, his hand sifting through her loose hair to cup against her nape. "I love you, you know?"

"I know." He says softly, rocking her a little, maneuvering his coat off to wrap it around her. "I love you too."

It's as if every ounce of energy flows out of her body with those words, and she sags against him, letting him take her weight for once, letting him support her. And he does without comment, just as effortlessly as he has saved her, saved Eden, saved Japan – possibly- saved the world.

And she's not sure how long they stand there, only that soon enough, he gentles her away to look down into her tear stained face and, smiling, holds out his hand between them. "I want you by my side, Saki-chan."

Saki stares at his hand a moment - taken back to that first day, to the elevator, to the tarmac – then looks up to his face and smiles back, raising up on tip-toe to kiss him, before laying her hand in his. "I'll be there, Takizawa-kun. I've always been there."


End file.
